05/28/2026
“The gift of joy and wonder in all your works”
May 24, 2026~ The Day of Pentecost, Year A
The Baptism of Claire Garman Zartman
Acts 2: 1-21; Psalm 104: 25-35, 37; 1 Corinthians 12: 3b-13; John 20:19-23
St. Matthew’s, Sunbury
The Reverend Dina Carter Ishler, Rector
In the Name of God~ Father, Spirit, and the Risen Son, Amen.
Today is a day for wonder. How could it be otherwise?
It is the Day of Pentecost, one of the seven principal feasts of the church and for many people their favorite feast day of the year, when, as our Collect says, “on this day you opened the way of eternal life to every race and nation by the promised gift of the Holy Spirit.” Now blessed by this gift we are sent forth to love and witness, even prophesy, each in our own uniquely beloved way. The speaking in various tongues by people gathered from many different nations as described in our Acts reading is a vision of the Church’s call to preach the gospel to the ends of the earth, with ‘church’ defined as a community drawn together and given life by the Spirit who is always forming us into the Body of Christ in this world.
And today we have a baptism, Claire Garman Zartman- a precious little girl, still a baby, enfolded in the longing of her family and all of us for her to be “sealed by this same Spirit in baptism and marked as Christ’s own forever.” Wonder is everywhere- in the stories of the blazing fire of the Spirit descending upon those early believers and filling all who experienced this with awe and amazement, and in the quieter, more intimate, but no less amazing breathing of Jesus on his disciples in a locked room as he says to them “Receive the Holy Spirit.” Wonder should be overflowing in us as we soak in the joy of gathering together around this moment, holding close the memories of countless other baptisms, and of course, in the innocence of Claire herself, completely unknowing of why she is here in a fancy dress and everyone is fussing over her, far more interested in the shiny red balloons swaying in the breeze of the fans.
The wonder in her eyes should teach us all we need to know of God.
When our own children were about to be baptized as tiny babies, I could not wait to hear the words that had brought me to tears in a lifetime of baptisms I’d shared in: “Sustain her, O Lord, in your Holy Spirit. Give her an inquiring and discerning heart, the courage to will and to persevere, a spirit to know and to love you, and the gift of joy and wonder in all your works.” We all need the gifts we pray for in this prayer: to be sustained and upheld by the indwelling Spirit, our Advocate and guide for always; for a heart that is endlessly curious about the world around us and for the prayerful discernment that relies most deeply on this Spirit of truth, as the Holy Spirit is called; for courage in the face of a world that repeatedly tests us; and finally, the loveliest line in the baptismal service, in my opinion: “the gift of joy and wonder in all your works.”
I have been given, all week, and in ways that can only be the work of the Spirit, the gift of conversations with some of you around wonder. At its core, wonder is spiritual- it is an encounter with something bigger than us that brings us into deeper awareness of God’s presence, of the beauty God has created for us to delight in and our connection with all things, of gratitude for what has been and hope for the future. When we cultivate a life where wonder feels natural, our everyday existence is transformed- reshaping how we see ourselves, God, and the world around us. Wonder is part of the work of the Spirit: we have been created for amazement, for delight, for holy curiosity to open up for us new ways of seeing and knowing God- but we must be paying attention.
And yet, like all good gifts, wonder can be diminished or even destroyed by the challenges, the losses, the heartbreak of our lives. As one friend said to me this week: “Wonder and curiosity can be stifled, suppressed, when our present conditions hinder our ability to dare to dream.” Sometimes we are afraid of the transformation wonder brings- afraid of the change it will demand of us. Sometimes we are too angry, in too much pain, too focused on survival, or just plain too tired to have any energy left to wonder. In a world where everything we want or need to know is a click away, 24/7/365, we are more likely to be flooded with information than appreciation, and despite what we hail as “progress” or “advancements” something precious is being lost forever. Sometimes the gifts of joy and wonder- and the time and space to savor them- feel like gifts with someone’s else’s names on the tag- luxuries we ourselves we cannot afford.
And yet, today is a day when we must allow ourselves to visualize a better world- and by ‘better’ I mean more aligned with God’s longings for us, his beloved children. Nothing will ever convince me we were created for lives packed so full that our most meaningful moments are crowded into what we’ve named ‘vacation’, our days a blur of endless activity that is all worthwhile but so exhausts us that no night’s rest is ever enough. To live like this is a kind of poison to every part of our humanity. Our nervous systems cannot regulate themselves and we are constantly on edge, our minds frayed into unhealthy patterns and our souls- well, tending them and honoring the One who made them is often the farthest thing from our minds. We can even know all this and still be swept up in that great myth of the postmodern era that “more is more”, busy a badge of honor, and “doing it all” a prize worth winning. The reason I say all this is because when this happens we can lose (sometimes forever) our amazement- our wonder at all God has created and our certainty that God is present there. The loss of wonder is a spiritual tragedy and we must be honest enough to call it that- and for Claire, and all our children, who are counting on us to fight for a better world for them to inherit- wonder is a way of life we must reclaim. I treasure this rock I was given that says “Imagine”- I keep it where I can easily see it to remind me to breathe and hold space for all the wonder-filled things of this world.
In just a few minutes, along with the promises of the baptismal liturgy where we promise to be faithful in prayer and fellowship, to the teachings of scripture and the breaking of bread, to seek and serve Christ in all persons, to love our neighbors as ourselves, let us also promise this: to live lives that show our children what wonder looks like and that it points us to God. We must live as if it matters and as if it is holy, defend it, return to it after seasons when it felt impossible, name it as a gift of the Spirit that is our birthright. They must see us make time and space for wonder to show up quietly and unannounced, not only in the grand and the glorious moments of our lives but also in the ordinary, unscheduled ones that are easy to miss. Children are naturally our teachers here: the dandelion fluff, the mud puddle, the butterfly, the dollar store bubbles are all equally wonderful to them, and so it is up to us to protect and encourage their childhood joy and wonder until they can claim these gifts for themselves- and through them come to see and know God ever more deeply. Amen.
